


You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me (Just Because You Can)

by lightning_in_a_bottle



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Kissing, Affectionate Insults that are Terms of Endearment, Cuddling & Snuggling, Danny has a thing for Steve's forearms, Danny is Pessimistic, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Living Together, M/M, People Calling Steve Charlie's Dad, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightning_in_a_bottle/pseuds/lightning_in_a_bottle
Summary: Or, 5 times Steve tells Danny he’s in love with him, and 1 time Danny says it back.The first time Steve’d said "I love you" to Danny, they’d been trapped under layers of collapsed concrete. And while the sentiment was definitely mutual, Danny had to struggle to say the words back, could only say them when they were safe above ground and he’d had a second wind from the wave of relief that had crashed over him at being alive.In the intervening years, Steve had kept saying "I love you," and Danny’d kept saying "I love you, too." Sometimes it was teasing and light, just part of their banter. Sometimes it was solid and heavy and felt like the foundation of a giant skyscraper.But Steve'd never said "I'm IN love with you." That is, until now.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 48
Kudos: 538





	You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me (Just Because You Can)

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up almost immediately after the events of season 10 episode 11. Danny's temporary move into Steve's home has been extended due to the sewage leak at Danny's house. It is basically a trope-filled ball of fluff in which Danny's pessimism keeps him from seeing that Steve means what he's saying.

1.

The first time Steve comes out and says it, Danny nearly drops his fork. 

They’d had a particularly rough case involving child traffickers, and Steve had been awake for over 48 hours. Danny’d watched Steve do that SEAL thing he does, watched him suck in all his emotions, bottle them all up inside, neatly compartmentalize them, and KEEP GOING. He’d woken up from cat naps on Steve’s office sofa to find Steve still pouring over case files, trying to find the one lead they’d missed. He’d seen a tired, defeated looking Steve pull extra energy out of his ass like a magic trick, watched him straighten his hunched shoulders, fabricate extra resolve out of thin air, and soldier on like a good little Captain America. He’d followed Steve into the lion’s den, participated in a shoot out that had saved 5 children’s lives, and had finally seen the man practically deflate in relief. 

He’d decided then and there that he’d feed Steve up. The man hadn’t eaten or slept in at least two days. 

So after the case, he’d dragged a tired Steve to his car by the elbow. “Paperwork can wait until the day after tomorrow. I gotta get this one home,” Danny says to Lou and Tani by way of explanation.

For once the buffoon hadn’t insisted on driving, and Danny drove them home to Steve’s house, let them in the front door, marched Steve up the stairs to his bedroom, and gently shoved the dead-on-his-feet man onto his bed.

“Sleep, you neanderthal,” he’d whispered as he gently unlaced Steve’s boots and slid them off his feet. “There’ll be food ready for you when you wake up.”

“Thanks, Danno,” he’d heard Steve reply.

After a nap and a shower and helping himself to the clothes that he’d migrated into Steve’s home over the past few weeks that he’d been staying here, Danny’d gone down stairs and started cooking.

Three hours later, a rumpled Steve appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Oh my God, Danny! I thought I smelled your nana’s marinara sauce, but I’d convinced myself it was just part of my dream.”

“Not a dream,” Danny says, scooping up a spoonful from the simmering pot on the stove and motioning Steve nearer. “Here, try this.”

Steve moans his appreciation as he lets Danny spoon feed him. “Holy shit, Danny. I’d forgotten how good this was.”

Danny purposefully swallows down the response Steve’s indecent moaning had elicited in him and instead smiles bashfully. “Yeah, well, dinner’s almost ready. You gonna stand there like a stick in the mud, or ya gonna help with the salad?”

Not long after that, they’ve sat down at the table. It maybe looks a little more romantic than Danny’d intended, but so what? The candles were a nice, relaxing touch after the last couple of day’s drama. And the wine is meant to help with that too. See, he’s got a plan. He’s gonna get Steve well-fed and then herd him back into bed for a good night’s sleep, maybe with a shower first. For that, he needs Steve mellow and purring like a cat.

Just as Danny’s about to dig in and take his first bite, Steve makes an obscene noise of pleasure that should be illegal, exclaiming “This is so good. I am so in love with you right now, I’d happily let you kick Junior out of the guest room and live here forever.”

Yeah, so he nearly drops his fork. But he doesn’t. It’s just that while they’ve exchanged plenty of I Love Yous over the years, Steve’s never phrased it quite this way. He’s never said he’s  _ in _ love with Danny.

The first time Steve’d said “I love you” to Danny, they’d been trapped under layers of collapsed concrete. And while the sentiment was definitely mutual, Danny had to struggle to say the words back, could only say them when they were safe above ground and he’d had a second wind from the wave of relief that had crashed over him at being alive.

In the intervening years, Steve’d kept saying “I love you,” and Danny’d kept saying “I love you, too.” Sometimes it was teasing and light, just part of their banter. Sometimes it was solid and heavy and felt like the foundation of a giant skyscraper. Danny knew he’d die for Steve, knew he’d gladly sacrifice his liver for Steve, knew he’d do anything to keep the man alive and sane and happy. 

And then one day Danny got himself shot in front of Steve, and in the dreams that seized control of his mind in the aftermath, Danny suddenly knew with clarity that he wouldn’t just die for Steve, he’d also claw himself back to life for the man. 

He’d happily  _ live _ for Steve too because, boy, did he want that. He wanted the life he’d dreamed for himself with a fiery passion. He wanted Steve by his side as they’d opened their restaurant, wanted Steve with him as Gracie and Charlie grew up, got married, and started their own families. He wanted a future built around and with and for Steven McGarrett, so he’d live. He’d live and live and live. He’d live because he was hopelessly in love with the man, and he greedily wanted more than the eight years they’d had together so far.

After that, it became harder for Danny to tell Steve he loved him. Harder to say the words because now Danny knew what they meant to him, knew that they meant so much  _ more _ to himself than they’d probably ever mean to Steve.

And maybe Steve had finally noticed? Not Danny’s feelings, no, because Steve is an oblivious, emotionally-constipated toddler in that department. But maybe he’d noticed that Danny almost never said it back these days.

Why else would he so casually be saying he’s  _ in love with Danny?  _

The idiot is sitting there, eating a bite of Danny’s lovingly-prepared pasta, grinning like the cat that got the canary, and not at all like a man who just launched a bomb into his own dining room and is waiting for it to go off.

“You’re welcome,” Danny says. And Steve, the stupid goof, his smile gets even bigger. So Danny puts him in his place with an exasperated but fond, “Eat your food, you animal.”

  
  
  
  


2.

Something dangerous is eating through Danny’s guts, devouring him from the inside out. 

Danny, in a pique of self-sacrifice, had made it his mission to cheer Steve up. Because Steve had not been happy lately. First Joe’d died, then Steve’s mom. So Danny decides that what Steve needs is to get laid. Of course, Steve is as straight as they come and not actually in love with Danny, despite what he’d said a few weeks ago over dinner. Danny resentfully acknowledges to himself that he is not, nor will he ever be, the person that Steve lets off sexual steam with.

So, he’d artfully set Steve up on a date, a date that is happening  _ right now _ . Sure, he’d set Steve up on a few unsuccessful dates in the past and earned himself a talking-to from the giant imbecile, but this time he manages to meddle without Steve realizing that Danny’s the one who orchestrated this whole date thing in the first place.

It’s killing him. He’s literally dying. That’s what this feeling is. He knew he’d be jealous, a disaster. But he’s a grown ass man, and he knows, knows deep down, that he’s doing the noble thing, the good thing.

Why is his life nothing but pain and torment?

His phone rings, and he picks it up without looking at the caller ID.

He doesn’t even get a word out before he hears, “Danny, I need you to not ask any questions. Just hang up and call me back in five minutes.”

“Steve?”

“No questions, remember? Five minutes.” The phone call abruptly ends.

Danny looks at his phone like it had just morphed into a fish in his hand. What the hell? He drops his phone and rubs his hands over his face, hears himself groan.

The next five minutes feel like torture. The overhead lights are sucking his soul out through his eyeballs. The feel of his own heartbeat is like a hammer inside his skull. Steve is on a date, a date with a very attractive, somewhat mouthy, utterly brilliant woman named Sandra. Why is he calling Danny like he needs to be rescued? Why is he thinking of Danny at all?

At the five minute mark, Danny picks up his phone again and dials Steve’s number.

“Danno, what’s wrong?” Steve answers in a concerned voice.

“I’m calling you back, you numbnut. Like you asked me to?”

“Is he hurt?” Steve replies nonsensically.

“Is who hurt? What’s going on? Did something finally crack open your thick skull? Are you injured?”

He hears the muffled sound of a woman speaking in concerned tones in the background, then the rustling of clothes as Steve holds his hand over the microphone and apologizes to her. He makes out words like emergency… son… go. 

“I’m on my way home. Don’t do anything stupid,” he hears as clear as a bell. Then the phone call ends again.

Ten minutes later, Steve’s headlights shine into the McGarrett house, making light and shadow dance across the living room walls. Danny’s head snaps up as Steve charges through the door, a look of gratitude plastered on his face.

“What is with the face? Why do you got that face on right now?” Danny quips from the sofa.

“I am so thankful for you, you have no idea,” Steve says as he walks straight into Danny’s personal space, leans over where he’s seated on the couch awaiting his doom, grabs his face in both hands and smacks a noisy, exaggerated kiss on his forehead. “Mwah. I am so in love with you. That woman was a disaster. You saved my life tonight, pal.”

Danny’s head is hurting from the whiplash. Did Steve seriously just say he’s in love with Danny -- AGAIN -- in the same breath he called him a pal? Mixed messages, much?

“Am I your knight in shining armor, McGarrett?” Danny jokes. “You got a screw loose up there?” he asks as he taps a finger against Steve’s still-too-near skull.

Steve takes a step back, then collapses next to Danny on the couch, practically melting into the cushions.

“Remind me to never go on a date again. It’s not worth it,” he sighs, a little deflated.

“Whaddya mean?” Danny asks.

“I am just so glad I get to come home to you and not a woman like that, Danno.”

Danny closes his eyes and swallows. He doesn’t have a pithy comeback for that, not when it’s so close to what he actually wants to believe.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you’re only here temporarily, but I wouldn’t mind clearing out Mary’s old bedroom downstairs and turning it into a space for Charlie if it meant you’d stick around for longer.”

And, fuck, if those aren’t tears welling up in Danny’s eyes. He blinks them back, looks at the earnest expression on Steve’s face, and opens his mouth to say … something. Closes it again when he realizes he doesn’t know what to say. 

He wants. God, he really wants to accept what’s on offer. If it were really on offer. But Danny knows it isn’t. Junior’s still technically living in the upstairs guest room. It’s not like Steve is gonna kick the baby seal out to make room for Danny and his kid.

“It’s okay, Danny.” Steve’s expression shutters. “I know it’s uncomfortable for you here. I know I’m still an emotional mess. I know you like having your own space, I just --”

And Danny cuts off that trainwreck of words with a quick, “Stop,” raising his right hand to emphasize the word.

Steve closes his mouth and raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“It’s not that, Steve. I am actually ridiculously fond of you and Eddie and the junior commando, and being here is in no way uncomfortable for me, despite having to spend most of the nights I’m here sleeping on the couch.”

A shy smile starts blooming on Steve’s face.

“I’m actually a little too comfortable here, truth be told. I just, uh, I don’t think there’s room enough for me here. These past few weeks, every time I got Charlie with me, we -- I -- have to kick Junior out of his room so the rascal has a place to sleep. I mean, you gonna make me steal Junior’s home out from under him? That’s not very fair to him. Even if we get Mary’s old room done up, there’s still no real room at the inn for me.”

Steve frowns. “Actually, Junior signed a lease on his own apartment today. It’s closer to where his family lives, so he can spend more time with them.”

“More time with them, or more time with Tani?” Danny smiles.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to touch that with a ten foot pole.” He turns so he’s facing Danny on the couch, catches his eyes, pins him in place with a look, and says as plain as day, “Move in with me Danny. Let’s make this permanent.”

Danny can’t breathe. He needs to remember to breathe. Breathe, God damn it. 

He sucks in a shaky breath. So, it really is on offer? Steve  _ wants Danny in his home _ , like permanently, forever in his home? Sure, it’s likely because Junior’s moving out and Steve really, really, really doesn’t like being alone, the oaf. And yes, it’s probably a terrible idea to share a house with the man he’s hopelessly in love with. But it’s as close to his dream as he’s gonna get, and the man did just say he’d rather come home to Danny than a beautiful woman, so maybe if he moves in, it’s not like he’s gonna move out again any time soon.

“You’re just asking me to move in because you hate being alone, am I right?” Danny finally says.

Steve raises his hands in mock surrender, “Guilty as charged.”

Danny can’t believe what he’s about to say. Still doesn’t believe he’s really saying it even as the words are tumbling out of his mouth. “Of course I’ll move in with you, you giant marshmallow.” 

He watches as a wide smile spreads across Steve’s face and lights up his eyes. He was looking for a way to make Steve happy, after all. Looks like he hit the jackpot.

  
  
  
  


3.

Charlie is sporting an enormous smile as he runs up to where Danny’s lounging on his towel on the public beach.

“Daddy!,” he yells as he nears, “Did you see that? I stood up for the entire wave!”

Danny can’t help smiling back, “Boy did I ever see that. Well done, kiddo.” He wraps Charlie in his arms, breathes in the smell of salt water. “I’m so proud of you.”

He looks up as Steve and the surfing instructor, Akamu, approach just steps behind Charlie. 

“You turn this boy into a water-loving fish like yourself, and we’ll have words, McGarrett,” he says just to be ornery.

Steve just rolls his eyes. “Charlie already loves the ocean, don’t you Charlie?” Charlie extracts himself from his father’s arms and looks up at Steve, giving an enthusiastic nod. “See?” Steve asks with glee.

Danny’s eyes narrow. It’s a lost battle anyway, seeing as the boy was born and raised on the island and knows nothing else. So, he attacks from a different angle, “You’re blocking my sun, you neanderthal.”

Steve grins and steps to the side, letting the full light of the sun hit Danny in the eyes and temporarily blind him. 

Just as he’s about to grumble out something too unsavory for Charlie’s ears, Akamu interrupts. “Charlie did really well on the board with me. He’s a natural.”

Charlie blushes at the compliment and hides behind Steve’s legs.

Danny’s thoughts swerve in this new direction. He stands up to be on more equal footing with the instructor. “Must have gotten it from this one,” he says, gesturing towards Steve. “He can’t start his day without a five mile swim.”

“Two miles,” Steve corrects. “Don’t exaggerate.”

“Of course, dear,” he mocks. Then turning towards Akamu, he adds, “My sincerest apologies. I should not have misrepresented just how many hours a day this water demon spends in the ocean.”

Akamu just laughs. Looking at them both, he says “You two have a really amazing son. I’m sure you both deserve the credit.”

Before Danny even has the chance to process those words, Steve simply smiles and says, “Thank you. He’s a great kid.”

“Yes, he is,” Akamu agrees, then takes a step back. “Well, I’ll be off then.” He turns to Charlie and says, “Good lesson, keiki. I’ll see you next week.”

Charlie smiles back, “Aloha, Akamu. Thank you!”

With a wave goodbye, Akamu is gone. Charlie’s still wrapped around Steve’s legs, and Danny’s having a quiet heart attack.

Apparently, it’s so quiet that nobody notices. Steve bends down to start packing up their beach supplies, and Charlie starts excitedly recounting everything he learned in today’s lesson.

Before long, Steve’s gesturing for Danny to grab one of the boards while throwing a, “Let’s go home. I hear it’s pizza for dinner tonight,” in Charlie’s direction.

With nothing better to do, Danny hefts the board into his arms amid Charlie’s squeals of delight. 

“Piz-za! Piz-za! Piz-za!” the kid chants as Steve joins in an octave below, echoing the words with a chant of his own.

“Piz-za! Piz-za! Piz-za!....” the duo’s chant carries them halfway to where Steve’s truck is parked.

Danny smiles to himself, taking in the scene. Steve’s always been like family, like a third father-figure to Grace and Charlie. But now that Junior’s moved out as of yesterday, Danny supposes they’re officially living together now. They’ll be doing literally everything together. They’ll be more of a family unit than ever. It makes sense that others see what’s so obviously there and assume things.

The revelation isn't nearly as scary as Danny thought it would be. Steve isn’t just  _ like _ family. He _ is  _ family. And not in the o’hana sense that the team is its own kind of chosen family, no. Like in the literal family unit sense, where they’ll be two adults sharing a home and parenting a child together.

Something warm unfurls in his chest and settles in his bones. If he’s not careful, Danny could let himself believe it was all pointing towards something … more. More than what they actually are. More than what they’ll ever be.

Later that night, Danny tucks Charlie into Junior’s old bed, whispering a soft good night. 

He turns and sees Steve watching from the doorway, a soft look on his face. He walks towards him to leave the room, but Steve doesn’t back out of the doorway. Now they’re standing face to face in the faint glow of Charlie’s nightlight.

“I came up to say goodnight,” Steve says quietly as if Danny’d asked a question. “But I see he’s already out for the night.” He turns from looking at Charlie to looking at Danny, eyes steady like he’s trying to say something without words.

There’s about two inches of space between them, space that’s vibrating with shared electricity. Danny does want to ask a question, has so many questions, and the air suddenly becoming thick is making him draw slow molasses breaths instead of ask any of them. He opts to duck his head and start making his way past Steve, out into the open air of the hallway where dim lighting and soft words can’t play tricks on his brain.

They leave Charlie’s room, and Steve quietly shuts the door behind them. He places a hand on Danny’s arm, stopping him before he makes his way down the hall to the linen closet to grab the blankets and pillow he keeps for when he’s relegated to the couch.

“Don’t sleep on the couch tonight, Danno.”

Danny’s eyebrows shoot up, and Steve lets go of Danny’s arm.

“I mean, we’ve not cleaned out Mary’s old room yet, obviously, but this is your home now. You shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch in your own home.” Steve runs a hand through his hair and continues, “You can spend this weekend bunked up with me, and by the time Charlie comes next week, we’ll have made more progress clearing a space for him downstairs.”

Danny opens his mouth. “Okay,” he says, nodding.

Steve releases a burst of air, almost as if he’d been holding his breath, “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay, you big teddy bear. I will happily cuddle with you for the next two nights. Just don’t, uh, don’t hog all the blankets, yeah?” 

They start making their way to Steve’s bedroom.

“Who hogs blankets? Not me.” Steve is smiling.

“You’re SUCH a blanket hog. That’s you.” Danny jabs a finger into Steve’s chest. “A blanket hog and a snorer.”

“Now you’re just lying.”

“I am not lying. Do you wanna recording? I recorded you! I have a video that sounds like a freight train wrapped in an avalanche, and it’s you. And you’re SNORING!” Danny exclaims victoriously as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

They’re in Steve’s bedroom now, and Steve’s pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants from a dresser drawer.

Danny holds up his phone an inch away from Steve’s face and hits play. The sound of Steve’s snoring reverberates throughout the room.

“That video’s all black. How do I even know that’s me?” Steve protests.

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious right now? How many men do you think I share my bed with, Steven? Of course, that’s you, you big moron! It’s black because I took it at night back in DC, and we had the blackout curtains drawn on the hotel windows.”

Steve gracefully doesn’t answer Danny’s questions, just in time for Danny to realize what he’d just implied with his words.

“I don’t know, Danny. How many men have you shared your bed with?” Okay, so maybe Steve’s not so graceful after all. And maybe the atmosphere in the room just went from playful banter to dangerously charged.

And maybe Danny can tell that Steve’s serious, that this isn’t just something to say to score a point in their perpetual verbal sparring matches. Steve wants to know. He’s asking like it’s important.

So Danny answers like it’s important, stopping the video and putting his phone back in his pocket. The room drops suddenly into silence.

“A few.” He sits on the edge of Steve’s bed.

“A few?” Steve’s still standing there with a white knuckled grip on his clothes, looking like his brain got stuck in a feedback loop.

“I’ve dated men before,” Danny puts forward because he’s trying to be open. He’s not ashamed, and Steve doesn’t deserve a lie. He leans back on his hands, and gives Steve a level look.

“Dated?” Steve’s voice is strangled. It’s like he can’t form a new thought, so Danny takes pity on him, pats the side of the bed next to him to indicate Steve should sit down. Steve does.

“Yeah. I’ve always been into men as well as women. I had a few fumbling hookups with the quarterback of my highschool football team, and I knew. Thankfully, uh, my parents are decent people. They didn’t even blink when I brought home a boyfriend from college one Thanksgiving.”

“How did I not know this? I thought I knew everything about you, Danno.” Steve looks a little crushed by the weight of his words. They’re small, but heavy.

“It’s not your fault. At first, I was keeping it from you because you were a very macho manly man fresh out of the Army, --”

“Navy,” Steve interrupts.

“And I didn’t know how you’d take it. I mean, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was still a thing then, remember? Ah, and then it just didn’t seem worth mentioning because it never came up.” Danny scratches behind his ear and tilts his head towards Steve. “I always told myself that if it came up, I would tell you. And, uh, now it’s come up, so I’ve told you.” He shrugs.

Steve is still looking a little shell-shocked, and Danny knows it’s not because he’s a homophobic asshole. But he doesn’t actually know why it’s so surprising. He figured by now it’d be this very obvious thing. Like everybody knows. Danny’s hair is blond. He likes coffee with malasadas in the morning. He will never wear cargo pants. He bangs guys sometimes.

“Why do you look so affected? What’s any of this got to do with you?” he decides to ask.

Steve shakes himself out of whatever he was thinking and stands up again.

“Nothing. You’re right, nothing. I was just caught off guard. Obviously, you’re an adult man with healthy sexual appetites, and you can date whoever you like. Men or women. It’s all good.”

“I know it’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees. “So… you’re not weirded out? Because you looked a little weirded out.” 

“Not weirded out at all, man. You do you.” Steve gestures to the bathroom behind him with the clothes in his hand, “I’m gonna take a shower before bed. You can have it next.”

“Don’t hog all the hot water!,” Danny says to the closing bathroom door.

“I’m gonna hog all the hot water,” Steve teases. The door clicks shut, and soon after the sound of the water is a steady hum in the room, countering the rhythmic sound of the ocean currents outside.

Danny decides to forfeit his shower and strips down to his tank top and boxers, crawling into his side of the bed under the covers and turning off his bedside lamp. 

He still has questions, and they’re burning a path up his throat, begging for a way out. Like, why did Steve seem to care so much that Danny likes sex with men? And why did he insist on Danny sharing his bed tonight? Was it really just about him living here now? It’s not like he really lives here yet. He’s still got to break the lease on his house and move all his shit somewhere. He hasn’t even decided which bed he’s going to keep, Junior’s old one or the one from his house. 

As Steve steals his way into bed after his shower, Danny rolls over to face him. In the dark room, it’s hard to make out his features, but Danny can still see Steve’s profile in the shadows.

“Why didn’t you correct Akamu this afternoon?” is the question that pops out first.

Steve’s shoulders suddenly tense, and he no longer seems sleepy, but on full alert. Danny curses himself for not keeping his trap shut, but waits for the answer anyway.

Finally, Steve says, “I didn’t think it was worth correcting him, is all.”

“Not worth correcting him?” Danny starts. “The man isn’t some random dude. He’s going to be seeing Charlie once a week from here on out for surfing lessons. He’s going to eventually find out the truth.”

Steve looks like he’s gearing up to be yelled at, like he needs to placate Danny. “Look, D, I know I’m not Charlie’s father, and I didn’t mean to step on your toes and insinuate myself where I don’t belong.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but Steve barges on, “You’re the parent. I’m Uncle Steve. I know that. Charlie knows that. I’m not trying to replace you or Rachel or anything.”

Danny reaches over and puts a hand on Steve’s arm. “I’m not worried about that, about any of that.” He feels some of the tension draining from Steve’s taut arm. “I don’t even mind if people think you’re his dad, too. I’m living here now, making a home with you.” He hears Steve swallow. “My son will be sharing that home with us about half the time. You will definitely be co-parenting him with me, and I’m fine with that. I mean, look at how well Gracie turned out, and you … you know you’re partly responsible for that. It’s, uh, the nature of the beast. It’s what I signed up for when I agreed to the move.” He pauses and can hear Steve suck in a shaky breath. “I just need to know that it’s what you’re signing up for too, because I can’t have you half in and half out. My son needs more stability than that. You can’t be his crazy fun Uncle and his co-parent. He needs you to be one or the other.”

Steve rolls from his back to face Danny. For a while, they’re breathing in sync, and Danny wonders if Steve is going to give him an answer tonight.

“I’m in Danny.” He grabs Danny’s hand in his own, holds tightly, and takes a deep breath. “I’m all in. You know I’m completely in love with you and Charlie, and I would never want to do anything to hurt either of you.” He squeezes Danny’s hand for emphasis, squeezes it so hard Danny wonders if his bones will be crushed into dust. “I didn’t correct Akamu because it felt good. It felt really good for someone to assume I’m part of a family like yours. I --”

Steve doesn’t finish his thought. He stops like he’s said enough, like he’s all done saying what he’s going to say. Danny’s pretty sure he knows what Steve’s not saying. That his own family sucked balls and was dysfunctional as fuck, that people assuming he can be part of a nice, normal family is a huge ass compliment. That he likes feeling like he’s a part of a family that loves him unconditionally, that a tiny part of him fears he’s not worthy of that kind of love and hasn’t earned that kind of place in their lives.

Danny figures he can’t leave Steve hanging, so he says, “Good.” He hears Steve sniffle, like he’s fighting back tears. Danny can barely see Steve, doesn’t know if there are tears there or not. “Good,” he says again, firmly squeezing Steve’s hand back.”You are our family, Steve. You know that.”

He doesn’t touch the way Steve chose to say he loves him again, the way he’d said “ _ I’m in love with you” _ and added Charlie into the statement. He knows Steve doesn’t mean romantic love, not if he can lump Charlie into the equation. He’s clearly talking about familial love. Plus, the guy is as straight as an arrow. Hell, he’d even had the opportunity to come out to Danny tonight, but hadn’t taken it. He could have said, “hey Danny it’s cool that you’re bisexual because I am too,” but is that what he said? No.

A few moments pass, and Steve’s grip starts to loosen on Danny’s hand.

“Good night, Danno,” he whispers into the dark.

“Good night, you big doofus,” Danny whispers back.

  
  
  
  
  


4.

A month later, and Danny feels like he’s finally, officially moved into his new home. He’d already turned over his old house keys to his former landlord and paid the fee to break his lease early.

He and Steve had sorted through all of Danny’s stuff. He’d moved about half of it into Steve’s place, swapping out some of the pieces that Steve’d inherited from his father for the ones Danny was attached to and preferred. 

“It’s not like it’s sentimental, Danny,” Steve had said one day when Danny was in peak form, worrying about how Steve would feel getting rid of some of his dad’s old things. “I didn’t live here when he bought half of this stuff. I’ve only been using it because it’s here. This is your home now, too. You deserve to be surrounded by the things you love and enjoy.”

His words reassured Danny enough that Danny’d felt no particular guilt about moving in his things. The stuff he hadn’t moved over, he’d donated to Junior so he could make a go of his new apartment.

Everything is still a bit chaotic though since they’d used Mary’s old room as a staging area for all of Charlie’s AND Grace’s things and Danny’d decided to repaint Junior’s old room in warmer colors -- a project that was only half complete. 

The day after he’d moved over the last of his stuff, he’d come home from a grocery store run to find Steve unpacking all of Danny’s things into Steve’s bedroom closet and dresser. 

“There’s no reason for them to smell like paint, Danny.” Steve had volunteered. “And you’re still sleeping in here anyway.”

Which … was true. He hadn’t moved out of Steve’s bed yet because he still had no free bed of his own here.

So what if the next day, Danny noticed that a portrait of Grace and Charlie had appeared on Danny’s bedside table? Or that Steve had put a picture of Danny and the kids on his? And, yeah, a pile of the books he read before bed appeared next to his side of the bed the same day, and then all of his hair products had migrated into the master bathroom. It didn’t have to mean anything, did it?

“I think you should just stay in here, Danny.” Steve says one night as he exits the bathroom in nothing but his boxer briefs with a head of towel-dried hair. He walks to his side of the bed, and Danny’s afraid that his brain is short-circuiting. He can only see long stretches of sinewy muscles and deliciously tempting curls of soft brown hair leaving a trail down past Steve’s waist. While it’s true that Danny has seen all this and more too many times to count thanks to Steve’s morning swims and the 5-0 showers, it’s still enough make his libido perk up. After all, this tall drink of water is currently  _ getting into bed with him _ .

Steve curls away to switch off his bedside lamp and settles down under the covers, hurrying to complete his thought. “That way, we can set up Gracie’s stuff in Junior’s old room and still put Charlie in Mary’s old room,” he says like this is a decision based solely on logic.

“Huh,” is all Danny manages. 

His mind is reeling. His palms are sweating. He’s trying to wrap his brain around what Steve is saying, but wonders if Steve’s really thought this through.

“You want me… to share this bed with you… for the foreseeable future?” he eventually croaks. “Not, uh, not just temporarily until we get Junior’s old bedroom painted?”

“Yes.”

“Like permanently, forever, until one of us dies or I decide to move out?”

“Yes.”

“And what if one of us starts dating again, huh?” he whispers.

Steve recoils a bit at that, but then collects himself carefully. “Uh, I thought I’d already said I wouldn’t be dating again any time soon.”

“As if I need any reminders that you’re a monk.”

“I’m not a monk,” Steve sighs, sounding grateful for the conversation’s new direction.

“You’re a ninja monk. That’s what you are,” Danny teases.

“Ninja’s aren’t monks, Danno. You’re thinking of kung fu masters.”

“Shut up, you braggart,” Danny silences him. “You aren’t the master of anything.”

“Don’t I know it,” Steve mumbles under his breath.

A beat passes. And then two. Danny is aware he hasn’t answered Steve’s proposition, and he doesn’t know what to think. 

He knows what he wants. He’s always known what he wants. But he definitely doesn’t want it if it’s only going to be snatched away again later when Steve decides to start a family of his own. He doesn’t know if he can handle the loss. He doesn’t know if he can move backwards from that.

“I don’t want to move backwards,” he says into the quiet.

“Then don’t go,” Steve answers, reaching for Danny’s hand in the dark. He finds it, and Danny feels Steve’s strong fingers curl around his own, feels the calluses from where Steve practices the guitar. He doesn’t want to let go. 

“Stay with me, Danny,” Steve eventually whispers.

“Where else would I go?” Danny whispers back.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Danny wakes up just enough to realize that Steve’s no longer near him. He scoots himself towards Steve and burrows into his warmth. Steve reaches out an arm and drags Danny closer, then they drift back to sleep in each other’s embrace.

The next morning, it hits Danny like a ton of bricks. He’s basically signed himself up to be Steve’s platonic life partner. They’re sharing a bed, sharing a home, raising a son. It’s _ almost  _ everything Danny had ever hoped for, so he knows it’s only a matter of time before it all falls apart.

That’s the way these things go, isn’t it?

Which is why a tiny part of him is not surprised when it all goes to shit later that week. 

It starts with a phone call.

“Is this Detective Danny Williams?” the voice on the other end asks.

“Yes.” 

“This is Tiffany from Tripler Army Medical Center. I see you’re listed here as Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett’s partner and emergency contact.”

Danny’s awareness narrows down to a pinpoint. He can hear himself breathing. He can hear the voice speaking. He can feel the rolled up cuffs of his dress shirt on his forearms. He can see a bird just outside his office window as it lands in a nearby tree. He can taste metal on his tongue.

He can not do all of these things at once.

He blinks and suddenly he’s sitting in his office chair with Lou standing over him, a concerned look on his face.

He blinks again. He’s in an SUV that’s not his own, being driven to Tripler. He feels the seat belt digging into his right shoulder.

He blinks again, and he’s barging through the doors of the emergency room, repeating “Steven McGarrett, I’m here for Steven McGarrett,” to anyone who’ll listen.

He blinks again, and he sees the tired faces of Lou and Junior and Tani seated in the chairs around his.

He’s sure that at some point, someone had told him what had happened. He’s sure that at some point, someone had started asking him questions which he’d answered without thought.

He knows this because before long, Quinn arrives carrying one of Danny’s bags and presses it into his hand. “I didn’t know what he’d want, and I couldn’t tell whose stuff was whose. But there’s a change of clothes and some toiletries in there.”

He hears Quinn gently ask Lou, “Did you know they share a bedroom? That they’re  _ together  _ together?” which causes Tani’s and Junior’s heads to whip around.

He blinks again, and he sees Rachel show up with Charlie in tow. Apparently someone had called her, thinking that seeing Charlie would boost Steve’s morale. Maybe it’d even boost Danny’s.

And when Charlie crawled into his lap, arms flung around Danny’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder, it did help. It did.

“Hey big guy,” Danny softly says, his voice unfamiliar to himself. “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine. Is he gonna be okay, Daddy?”

Danny doesn’t know the answer to that question. He looks up at the faces of the people around him and has no clue. He doesn’t remember much of anything until this point. Hours have passed, and he has maybe 5 minutes of memories to account for all that time.

“Of course Commander McGarrett is going to be okay,” Rachel chimes in. “He’s just been in a car accident, like your sister was last year. She’s absolutely fine now, and he’ll be fine too.”

A car accident. Huh.

Someone clears their throat. “Commander McGarrett’s family?” she asks, looking towards Rachel, who just turns her head to look at Danny.

Danny stands up, Charlie in his arms. “Yeah?” he asks.

She smiles and says, “He pulled through surgery just fine. They set the compound fracture in his left arm without any problems. So other than some scrapes, a few bruised ribs, a round of antibiotics, and the sling cast on his arm, he’s a picture of health.”   
  
“Thank God,” Danny fervently says as he kisses the top of Charlie’s head. Behind him, he hears the others exchange audible signs of relief.

“He’s ready for visitors, now. If you’ll follow me,” she motions for Danny to follow. 

He walks along the corridor behind the doctor, hearing their steps echo like tiny claps. Outside Steve’s door, he sets Charlie down and they both walk in together.

Steve’s sitting up in his hospital bed, and a wide smile stretches across his face. “My two favorite men!,” he says enthusiastically as the doctor closes the hospital door behind her and walks away.

“Uncle Steve!” Charlie says, running forward to give Steve a hug on his good side. Steve winces slightly at the motion, but doesn’t give any other indication that he’s not overjoyed to see them.

“Hey little man. How you doin’?” Steve asks.

“I’m okay. I don’t think Danno’s doing so well, though,” Charlie says conspiratorially.

Steve raises his eyebrows and spears Danny with a dissecting look, “Oh he isn’t? Is he?”

“Mommy said that Uncle Lou said that Daddy needs cheering up.” Charlie says as he sits down in the chair on the other side of Steve’s bed. Danny’s feet are still glued to the floor just inside the door.

“Well, let’s cheer him up then,” Steve winks at Charlie.

“You’re very chipper for a man who just had surgery,” Danny quips. “They got you on strong painkillers, or somethin’?”

“Only for the next few days. You know how it goes,” His smile stretches even wider as he wags his eyebrows and adds, “This is definitely the good stuff.”

Danny doesn’t have words. He went from an apparently dissociative state the likes of which he’d only experienced once before to being flooded with overwhelming, staggering relief. The emotional upheaval is enough to put him on edge. He’s used to worrying his pants off about Steve, often even losing sleep over his concern for the bullet-magnet’s health. He’s not used to suddenly blanking out, as if his soul had been ripped out of his body and he’d been temporarily replaced by an automaton.

“Get your ass over here, Williams.”

“Is that an order?” Danny asks as his feet are already moving forward. He stops just to the side of Steve, sure that he looks like a lost puppy. He wants to hug Steve and never let go. Kiss the silly grin off his face. Crawl up in to bed with him, where after over a month of sharing one together, it feels like he belongs.

Steve reaches out to Danny with his good hand, clasps their hands together, and doesn’t let go.

“God, you gave me a scare. You’ve got to stop doing that.” Danny whispers as he leans forward and plants a tender kiss on Steve’s forehead.

Rachel sweeps into the room with the doctor in tow. “Sorry for interrupting, gentlemen, but I’ve got to get Charlie home and fed.”

Charlie walks over to his mother dejectedly. “Don’t be a poor sport, Charlie. Say goodbye to the commander and your father.”

Charlie gives them both a little wave and says, “bye.”

“Charlie, is it?” the doctor interrupts. “I bet if you ask very nicely, the ladies at the nurse’s station will let you pick a lollipop from the bowl on their counter.”

Charlie’s face immediately brightens, and Rachel’s turns into a scowl. Danny knows it’s because someone’s offering their son candy before dinner. Charlie looks up to his mother with puppy eyes and simply says, “Please.”

Rachel nods her head yes and watches as the doctor points Charlie directly across the hall to the nurse’s station.

“He gets that from you,” Rachel says to Steve with a trace of amusement once Charlie’s out of earshot.

“Nah, that’s all Danno here,” Steve says loopily, nodding his chin in Danny’s direction. “He’s got the sweetest eyes.”

Rachel bravely struggles to contain a laugh while Danny’s eyes threaten to bug out of his head. 

Charlie shows back up, holding a lollipop in one hand and a sticker in the other.

“And on that lovely note, I think we’ll be off. Doctor. Commander. Daniel,” she says as she acknowledges them each in turn. “Say goodbye, Charlie.”

“Goodbye, Charlie,” Charlie sniggers to the room.

“You have a delightful son, Commander McGarrett,” the doctor comments.

“Yes, he does,” says Rachel as she leads a giggling Charlie out of the room.

“Detective Williams,” the doctor continues, “I wanted to let you know that the nurses will be coming through here in about ten minutes to do their rounds. Since you’re Commander McGarrett’s partner now, you’re welcome to stay for the check up if you’d like.” 

She leaves the room, and Danny frowns. He’s frankly torn between bewilderment at how Rachel had just … agreed… that  _ Charlie was Steve’s son _ and perplexed by why the doctor seems to think he’s any more Steve’s partner now than he’d been the last time Steve’d been admitted 8 months ago.

He takes one look at Steve, who’s smiling like an insufferable loon, and shrugs. He sits down on the edge of Steve’s bed.

It’s then that he notices he’s still holding Steve’s hand.

He accepts that he doesn’t want to let it go. Steve’s hand is grounding him, holding him in place. He’s afraid that if he lets go, he’ll just drift away, or maybe Steve will. He holds up their joined hands and says, “So this is our thing, now?”

Steve, the dope, smiles up at him. “I guess so.”

Danny leans in closer to Steve, watches his pinpoint pupils dilate slowly, takes in the freckles on his face and grey hairs in his beard. He feels exposed and raw and like he needs to hide his face, so he leans closer and buries his forehead in the pillow beside Steve’s ear. “I know you’re on a shit ton of drugs right now, babe, so I will save the scolding until you can remember it. But you really, really, really need to stop getting hurt and giving me heart attacks. You got people who need you now, you stupid, stupid man.”

“Heeyyyy, Danny,” Steve drawls out slowly, “I don’t want to give you heart attacks. I’m too in love with you. You’re not allowed to die.”

Danny’s chuckle is muffled by the pillow and Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah? Well, you’re not allowed to die either, you great lug.”

  
  
  
  
  


5.

A few months pass, and life has settled into a predictable routine. Charlie’s room is long-finished, and Junior’s old room is now officially a guest room populated mostly with the things Gracie hadn’t wanted to move with her to college.

Danny’s stuff has infiltrated everywhere else. His favorite mugs are in the kitchen cabinets, along with his professional grade cookware sets and his Nana’s china. His mail is piled on the desk in the office, next to his lockbox of important documents, his gun safe, his file cabinet, and his laptop. His TV and stereo are in the living room because they were bigger and better than Steve’s, although they did keep Steve’s dad’s old turntable to play his vinyl record collection. Pictures of his kids and family adorn the hallway walls instead of whatever cheap 70s art Steve’s dad had picked out, and Charlie’s latest art project is always stuck to the fridge with a magnet. His relatively new bed had made its way into the guest bedroom, and his old college assignments and textbooks had made their way into storage bins in the upstairs closet.

There wasn’t any room in the house that didn’t have Danny William’s stuff in it, and both men confess it finally feels like home.

One night about a week into Steve’s recuperation, they’d been on the couch watching a movie. Danny’d been tucked against Steve’s side under his good arm, and Steve’s hand was resting against Danny’s shoulder. The position was getting uncomfortable for Danny, but he didn’t want to stop touching Steve so he’d sort of slid down Steve’s side to lay down and put his head in Steve’s lap.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He’d asked, mostly to be polite. Steve had never objected to any touch that Danny’d initiated, a thought that suddenly lodged itself in the back of Danny’s brain.

“Of course not.” Steve’d said, resting his hand on top of Danny’s shoulder again.

Danny was pretty sure he could start stroking Steve’s thigh, and Steve wouldn’t protest. Why was that? Sleeping wrapped in each other’s arms does breed a sort of familiarity. But Danny was sure it wasn’t just that. 

Maybe Steve was a bit touch starved? So Danny’d decided to test his theory and had started lightly tracing the veins in Steve’s hand with the soft pads of his fingers. Steve hadn’t drawn back his hand, but instead let out a hum of pleasure.

From that moment on, Danny had started touching Steve more, until now Steve’s body felt almost as familiar to him as his own. 

Steve would often sit on one end of the couch with his feet propped up in Danny’s lap at the other end, and Danny’d contentedly ghost his thumb along the tendons in Steve’s feet or rest his hands atop Steve’s ankles.

Sometimes Danny would duplicate their position from that first night with his head in Steve’s lap, except now Steve would rake his fingers mindlessly along Danny’s scalp and through his hair.

Danny finds himself touching Steve’s hips to move him out of his way in the kitchen, giving him lingering hugs goodbye if they’re not going to see each other for a while, and resting his forearm and chin on Steve’s shoulder as he stands behind him watching him work on his laptop.

It’s a sea of accidental touches that feels as natural as breathing after so many months of living together and sharing the same bed, and Danny’s never been more content.

One morning, Danny wakes up wrapped in Steve’s arms and revels in the warmth and security of the big oaf’s embrace. He doesn’t want to move. He likes being the little spoon.

A quick glance at the clock reveals that his alarm’s set to go off in less than 10 minutes, and Danny stifles a groan. Why doesn’t the universe ever cut him a break?

He just wants to snuggle more into Steve’s warmth, so he scoots his ass back a bit and freezes when he realizes that Steve’s sporting some morning wood. This has happened a few times since they began sharing the bed, and each time Danny had managed to rally his better self into ignoring the delectable allure of a nearly naked Steve and had hopped out of bed before anything dangerous could happen.

Steve may be a monk, but Danny isn’t.

But this morning he’s tired and selfish and just wants to feel good, so he presses back closer into Steve instead of bolting away like a scared rabbit.

And, ah, Steve’s arms pull him in more tightly, and Steve lets out a pleased sigh as he slots his erection between Danny’s ass cheeks. He rests like this for a while, savoring the feeling of being held.

A moment later, and Steve begins a slow and gentle slide of his hips, a soft sort of rutting that sets Danny on fire with need. Steve’s hand flattens against Danny’s heart, pulling him even closer against Steve’s chest, and now they’re pressed together from head to toe, hips lightly rocking in sync with each other. Danny reaches up with a trembling hand and places his hand over Steve’s, willing Steve to press further, to demand more.

Danny can feel Steve’s breath tickle his hair and breeze across the nape of his neck, so he lets out a faint moan on an exhale which Steve finally seems to treat like an embossed gold invitation. Steve’s hand slides lower, a mellow movement that leaves a trail of heat in its wake as it roams downward over Danny’s hairy chest. It pauses at the elastic waist of Danny’s boxers, and Danny realizes he’s holding his breath. He cants his hips back into Steve’s more urgently, letting his body scream yes even as the word itself eludes him.

The alarm sounds like a banshee announcing Danny’s doom.

“Fuck,” Danny exclaims, reaching over to silence the annoying contraption built by evil, evil men. Behind him, Steve stiffens. 

“Danny?” he hears Steve’s sleep addled voice ask.

And isn’t that just great? Steve had been asleep, of course Steve had been asleep. Probably dreaming sexy dreams of pliant women with well-defined arms, perfect asses, and penchants for blowing things up, literally. 

Rolling away from Steve and onto his stomach, Danny groans as his erection is trapped beneath him.

“Hey,” he says in greeting.

“Hey,” Steve says back, a bit more hesitantly.

“So, I’m just gonna hop in the shower.” Danny says as he stands awkwardly and makes no attempt to hide his erection since it’s tenting his boxers obscenely.

“Danny,” Steve calls to his retreating back. 

“It’s just a couple of erections, Steve, not the end of the world.” 

Steve opens his mouth to reply, but Danny waves away whatever Steve was going to say. “Shower,” he says firmly as he shuts the bathroom door between them.

When he emerges from the shower after a quick wank in which he absolutely did not fantasize about his straight best friend and platonic life partner (who is he kidding?), Steve has already made his way outside for his morning swim.

Danny dresses carefully, as always. He knows he looks good in his slacks and dress shirts, and as a concession to both Hawaii and the giant neanderthal he’s in love with, Danny forgoes wearing a tie.

Thirty minutes later, he’s making breakfast while a sleepy Charlie sips at his orange juice.

“Ugh, Danno. This tastes terrible. Why does my orange juice taste terrible?” the kid whines.

“Did you brush your teeth yet?”

“Yeah, of course, Daddy. I’m not an animal.”

Danny rolls his eyes at his son’s snark, wondering whether it’s a gift from Rachel or Steven when he suddenly realizes his boy is probably a little too much like himself.

“Well, if your mouth still tastes like toothpaste, that can make the OJ taste bad,” Danny instructs. “Maybe try eating some of these eggs first before you drink any more juice.” 

He slides a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon over to his son, then announces that he’s gonna go check on Steve.

As Danny emerges out from under the shade of the lanai, he sees Steve walking up out of the ocean and onto their private beach. Eddie’s sitting nearby, totally dry and enjoying some shade, so thankfully Danny doesn’t have to worry about the wet-dog shake ruining his work clothes.

Steve’s still dripping water, and Danny’s eyes follow the trails of droplets as he scans Steve from head to toe.

“See anything you like?” Steve voices lazily.

“Oh please,” Danny reacts, shaking his head. “You know you’re stupidly handsome. You don’t need to go fishing for compliments.”

A goofy grin spreads across Steve’s face, and he reaches down to grab his towel from where it’s draped over a lawn chair. “Stupidly handsome,” he mimes.

“Unreal,” Danny exclaims, throwing his arms up into the air like he’s giving up. “Everything about you is unfairly beautiful, and you know it.” 

He snaps his mouth shut when he realizes what he just said and turns on his heel, throwing a casual “Eggs are ready” over his shoulder as he escapes back into the kitchen.

Five minutes later and Steve is dry and dressed and sitting at the table eating his breakfast and drinking his dumb butter coffee and making Charlie laugh with idiotic jokes.

“Alright you two,” Danny announces as he stands from the table and gathers up his wallet, keys, and travel mug full of coffee. “I’m headed to the dentist. Charlie, don’t make Steve late to work,” he says as he leans over and gives Charlie a kiss on the lips. “Steve, don’t make Charlie late to school,” he finishes as he leans over and gives Steve a peck on the lips too.

“I’ll see you boys later,” he calls on his way out the front door.

It’s only when he’s halfway to the dentist’s office that he realizes what he’d done. He’d had his first kiss with Steve, and he hadn’t even noticed. It hadn’t seared itself into his brain or paralyzed him with want. Fireworks hadn’t gone off, and the sky hadn’t started falling.

It had seemed as natural as every other accidental intimacy they’d shared over the past months.

When he sees Steve at HQ later that morning, Steve smiles at him and greets him like nothing’s weird between them at all.

Maybe nothing’s weird. Huh.

A few hours later, Steve knocks at his office door and lets himself in.

“What’s up?” Danny asks, because he can see that Steve is a little bit nervous.

“Yeah. Um, you remember Sandra?”

Danny’s mind is blanking, and he raises his eyebrows to say  _ who? _

“That awful date I had before I asked you to move in with me?” Steve supplies.

A lead weight settles itself inside Danny’s stomach and he nods his head. He remembers her.

“Well, she has a sister who’s a cop we know, Janine. She and I went to junior high together and met back up here when 5-0 started.” Danny’s insides start churning with dread. He thinks he knows what’s happening, but he doesn’t want to believe it. 

“I just saw Janine downstairs,” Steve continues, “and she and her partner invited us to go on a double date with them tonight. They apparently found a really great new club and bistro down in Waikiki, and they thought we’d enjoy it?”

“Tonight?” Danny can barely speak. That one word took a monumental amount of willpower.

“Yeah,” Steve answers.

No. No. No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to move backwards, at least not so soon. Danny’s imagination supplies pictures of Steve and Janine dancing, long limbs sinfully entwined. He pictures nights at home while Steve goes out on an endless string of dates, falling hard and fast in love with the lady cop who’s obviously his perfect match. He sees himself moving into the guest bedroom, then pictures hearing them hook up on the other side of the wall. Oh God, he thinks. I’ll have to move out. I won’t be able to cope with losing what we have.

“So, tonight?” Steve asks. “Should I tell them we’re on?”

The word eventually forms in Danny’s mouth, and it feels as hard and nails and as sharp as knives. 

“Sure,” he ckokes out.

“Great,” Steve pulls a face that’s a cross between narrowing his eyes and a smile of relief, as if he’s suspiciously pleased. “Let’s plan on 7, then.”

Steve leaves Danny’s office, and Danny loathes the glass walls. He can’t have an emotional breakdown here, so he just has to suck it up.

He  _ knew _ things had to be weird! The universe wouldn’t let him off that easily. After a morning of mutual erections and a goodbye kiss, it made sense that he’d scared off his very straight best friend.

Of course Steve would want to re-assert his heterosexuality by taking a lovely she-cop on a date. And of course, he’d jump at the chance to have Danny there, to signal very clearly that Danny really, really should reign himself in. It was Steve’s very gentle way of trying to bring them back into balance, of making sure that Danny didn’t expect things from Steve that Steve couldn’t possibly give.

As the end of the work day approached, Danny’d wrangled his emotions into the shoebox in his brain where he temporarily stores the things that overwhelm him so that he can deal with them later, preferably when he’s home alone with a bottle of scotch. 

By the time 7 pm rolled around, he and Steve had succeeded in being pleasant to each other as they’d bathed and got dressed in date night attire. 

“You clean up nice, babe,” Danny had offered when he’d seen Steve in skin-tight dark jeans and a dark purple button down. “Let me just --” He grabbed one of Steve’s arms and rolled up the sleeve cuff, revealing a well-tanned forearm. 

Steve swallowed thickly. “Thanks,” he said.

“Well, I don’t want you hiding one of your best features when you’ve got a hot date.”

Steve smiled shyly, and Danny could swear he saw a blush creeping up Steve’s neck where the top few buttons of the dress shirt were left undone.

“Right. That wouldn’t do at all,” Steve practically purred.

And that right there was Danny’s cue to hightail it out of their bedroom and go downstairs. When Steve followed him down a few moments later, both sleeves were rolled up to the elbow exposing ropey muscles that flexed as he reached for his wallet and put it in his back pocket.

“Ready to head out?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Danny sighed and started towards the door. He was stopped by Steve’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Steve looked in Danny’s eyes. “We don’t have to do this. We can stay home and watch Netflix and drink beer. We don’t have to go anywhere tonight if it’s too much, or you’re too nervous.”

“Nervous?” Danny squeaked. “Why would I be nervous?” He dismissed that notion with a wave of his hand, and walked through front door. “We are two handsome men about to go enjoy an incredible night of fine dining and dirty dancing. There’s nothing to be nervous about at all.”

That seemed to satisfy Steve because he tentatively smiled and turned to lock the door behind them.

When they arrive at the club, Janine and her partner Leslie are waiting for them out front.

“Hello, boys,” Janine begins. “You remember Leslie, right?”

Steve and Danny walk together up the sidewalk towards them, Steve’s hand warm and reassuring at the small of Danny’s back.

“Of course we remember Leslie,” Steve says. “You were at that drugs bust in Chinatown last month.”

“That’s me,” Leslie says jovially. “You guys are going to love this place,” she continues as they all step inside, “it’s not nearly as intense as some of the others in this neighborhood.”

Danny looks around and can see what she means. The dance floor is off to one side, but it isn’t playing booming EDM and doesn’t feature flashing lights. Instead a live band is playing, and doing a damn good job of it, too. A sea of couples fills the dance floor, but they don’t seem like they’re about to accidentally fall out of their clothes or jump the person next to them just because they’re horny.

They grab a booth in the back of the bistro & bar area, with Danny and Steve on one bench and Janine and Leslie across from them on the other. Within moments, an actual waiter comes over to bring them menus and take their drink orders.

“I see what you mean,” Steve says as he reaches behind Danny and slings his arm across the back of the booth. “This place is definitely not as noisy and sweaty.”

Janine laughs out loud, “Well, you haven’t been here for Misty Meanor’s Thursday Night Spectacle yet.”

Steve’s hand drops to Danny’s shoulder and gives him a squeeze. “No, I don’t know if that sounds like our scene, but I hear she’s pretty fun.”

Danny, of course, has no clue who this Misty Meanor was. Maybe an up and coming Honolulu DJ? Naturally, he changes the subject. “How long have you two been partners?” he asks.

Leslie flashes Janine a warm smile. “Three years, this past May. You?”

“9 years, going on fifty,” Danny replies.

Steve’s eyes narrow with suspicion, but all he interjects is “And we just moved in together 5 months ago.”

“Awww. 5 months! I would have thought it’d have been a lot longer than that, given HPD gossip,” Janine cracks.

Danny opens his mouth to ask her exactly what the rumor mill is saying about them now, but the waiter chooses that moment to serve their drinks.

“These are for the ladies,” he says as he deposits their drinks. “This is for Muscles over there,” he quips as he puts Danny’s drink in front of him. “And this …” he catches Steve’s eye flirtatiously, “is for you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stormy.”

He gingerly puts down Steve’s drink along with a napkin that clearly has his phone number scrawled across it and saunters off with a wink.

“Oh. My. God.” Danny blurts out to the waiter’s retreating back. “Did he really just GIVE YOU HIS PHONE NUMBER? Did you really JUST PULL HOT WAITER GUY?” 

“No need to yell, Danno.” Steve says.

“Are you seriously SHUSHING ME RIGHT NOW, BABE?” So, maybe Danny is having problems controlling the volume of his voice.

Steve moves his hand to the back of Danny’s neck and starts steadily rubbing his thumb into his tense muscles with a soothing motion. “You know I’m crazy in love with you, Danny, but jealousy isn’t a good look on you.” 

“JEALOUS? I’m not jealous,” Danny zeroes in on, because it can’t possibly be a good look for Steve to talk about being in love with Danny while he’s on a date with the perfectly lovely Janine.

“And besides,” Steve continues as if Danny hadn’t spoken a word, “I don’t care that he gave me his number,” he says calmly. “It’s not like I’m going to do anything with it.” 

And isn’t that just a bucket full of cold water? Of course Steve isn’t going to do anything with it. He’s a straight guy on a double date with two hot chicks. Strangely, it doesn’t quite feel like a double date, but Danny’s thoughts are interrupted by Janine.

“Of course you’re not going to do anything with it,” she says coyly. “I saw your phone’s lock screen, remember?”

And Danny’s heart picks up, because he knows what Steve’s lock screen is. It’s a selfie Danny’d taken of himself with Gracie and Charlie last July 4th. They’re all laughing and looking directly into the camera. But what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?

Danny’s missing something. He knows it. He lets the weight of Steve’s hand on his neck center him, breathes deeply and puts his detecting skills to use. He is a detective, after all. He can be objective.

Firstly, he notices that Janine and Leslie are seated awfully close to each other, touching from shoulder to thigh with their hands likely joined under the table. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were a couple.

He looks around, sees couples paired up at the bar, at the tables, on the dance floor. But every couple is same-sex. Men leaning into other men and whispering words intimately into their ears, women trailing fingers down the forearms of other ladies.

And there are rainbow flags hung behind the bar, along with other flags he vaguely recalls representing bisexuals, lesbians, and trans people.

So, fact one. This is apparently an LGBTQ+ club.

That leads to fact two. Janine and Leslie aren’t just work partners; they’re a lesbian couple.

Fact three, Janine saw Steve’s phone lock screen and assumed something about why Steve would be off the market.

That leads to fact four. Janine and Leslie likely think Steve and Danny are a couple.

Fact five. Steve’s known Janine since middle school. He probably knows she’s a lesbian and that Leslie is her romantic partner as well as work partner.

Which gives rise to fact six. Steve knows. Steve knows that Janine and Leslie think that he and Danny are a romantic couple.

Fact seven. Steve, the giant cuddle monster, hasn’t bothered to correct that misunderstanding. Instead, he’s glued possessively to Danny’s side.

Danny thinks his brain is going to melt. There’s more. He knows there’s more. He can do this.

Fact eight. Steve never said Janine had asked him out. His exact words were, “she and her partner invited us to go on a double date tonight.” Danny had just assumed the worst. 

Ergo, fact nine. Steve has spent this entire day and evening thinking that he’d asked Danny out on a date, and that Danny had said yes. He did this after grinding his erection into Danny’s ass this morning and getting a full-on kiss on the lips before work. He did this even though Danny had said they were “two handsome men about to go enjoy an incredible night of fine dining and dirty dancing” and Steve had thought Danny’d meant they’d  _ be dirty dancing with each other. _

Danny picks up his previously untouched drink and takes a sip, and then another one. The conversation at the table has moved on, and Danny’s only vaguely aware of it.

Because fact ten is as obvious as Danny is stupid. Steve is not straight, and worst still:  _ All these times that Steve’s said he’s in love with Danny, he’s literally meant he’s in love with Danny. _

He’d meant it when it slipped out over Danny’s homemade pasta. He’d meant it when he came home from that dreadful date and asked Danny to move in with him. He’d meant it when he’d agreed to co-parent Charlie. He’d meant it when he was high as a kite on post-surgical drugs, and he’d meant it right now when he thought that Danny was being unnecessarily jealous.

Jesus Christ. Steve’s been telling him and telling him and telling him. Showing him and showing him and showing him. 

And all the while, he’s been pining away like an idiot because he couldn’t believe what he heard and saw. Because he’s way too pessimistic for his own good, and hope is as sharply painful sometimes as despair.

He turns to Steve and pokes him in the ribs, hard.

Affronted, Steve looks down at Danny with a questioning gaze. “Ow. What’s that for?”

“Well, babe, I clearly want you to move out of my way.”

Steve gets out of the booth so Danny can scoot out. Then he slides back in and leaves Danny standing there. 

Danny pokes him again. Steve just glares back in fond exasperation. “Yes?”

“Can I have this dance?” he says with an outstretched hand and a devilish grin.

Steve’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas, or like Danny’s just offered to make his famous banana chocolate pancakes. He slips his hand into Danny’s and stands up. “Excuse us, ladies. We’re gonna hit the dance floor.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Danny chips in. Then he turns away from the other couple, grabs Steve’s shirt front and pulls him down so that he’s speaking directly to Steve’s ear.

“Come on, you giant klutz. Show me your moves.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


+1

  
  


After a couple of fast paced songs that had Steve, Danny, and the ladies dancing goofily and letting loose in their own little circle, the tempo slows. Steve whirls Danny around and pulls him back so that his rear is plastered to Steve’s front. 

They hold hands in front of Danny’s chest, over his heart, and sway with the mellow beat of the music. Danny tilts his head back so it leans against Steve’s shoulder and closes his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sensations enveloping him.

If he tilts his head … just so … he can hear Steve’s heart beat.

If he backs his ass up just … like that … he can feel Steve’s arousal.

A low warning growl reverberates into his ear from Steve’s dipped head, “Danny.” 

In response, Danny rolls his hips, and he is wickedly pleased with the softly whined, “Danny,” that elicits. Steve grips Danny fiercely, then lets his hands stray over Danny’s pecs, brush against already peaked nipples, and trail down to tightly hold on to Danny’s rocking waist.

Danny catches a breathless “You,” followed by a gulp, “you have no idea what you’re doing to me. Do you?” whispered against the hollow just behind his ear. His hands are resting on Steve’s forearms, so he rakes his fingernails up the exposed length of skin. 

Steve groans, and Danny can’t take it anymore. He turns in Steve’s arms, using one hand to pull Steve’s waist closer while the other slides up Steve’s chest to rest near his collar. He can feel the hard length of Steve’s cock pressed into his hip and knows from Steve’s widening eyes that Steve can feel Danny’s quite obvious response against his thigh.

“I know exactly what I’m doing to you, babe,” Danny rasps. “Because you’re doing the same thing to me.”

Steve lowers his forehead until it’s touching Danny’s, and it’s like a privacy curtain fell around them, cutting them off from the rest of the world. There’s only the two of them and the swaying rhythm of a song they can no longer hear.

“Danny,” Steve practically whimpers. “I didn’t think you wanted me like this.”

“Are you kidding me, Mr. Tall, Dark, & Stormy? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Steve’s eyes well up with unshed tears, and he lets out a tiny huff of breath. His fingers curl into Danny’s hips, tugging him even closer.

“You never said.”

Danny chokes back a retort of “neither did you, ya big softie” when he realizes it is, in fact, not remotely true. Steve  _ has said _ . Has said repeatedly. And now it’s time Danny mans up and says it back.

“Well, you know me. Glass half empty and all that,” he starts by way of explanation. “I kept expecting the walls of our life to cave in on us and crush us. I was … I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Danny shrugs. 

He takes a steadying breath. “I know I’m a little late to the words party, gorgeous. But you should, uh… You should know that I’m head over heels in love with you, too,” he finally gets out.

He’s pulled into a bruising hug, wraps his arms around Steve’s back in response. Steve lays a short, fierce kiss on his neck and squeezes him even harder. He feels Steve trembling under his hands, so starts swaying them both side to side in a soothing motion.

After a few calming moments, Danny feels settled in his skin. The music has picked up again, and the sounds from the club filter back into his awareness. He and Steve still cling to each other, and it feels so good that Danny never wants to let go.

“I don’t know about you, but I could do with a bit more privacy,” Steve says as he pulls back slightly.

Danny’s reluctant for the moment to end, but acknowledges that he’s got a problem in his pants. He looks down to where they’re joined at the hips and lets out a wry laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I can see your point,” he replies.

“Let’s go home.”

Danny nods and extricates himself from Steve’s front, but still clutches one of Steve’s hands, entwining their fingers.

He looks around and spots Janine and Leslie dancing about ten feet away from them, catches Janine’s eye, and waves them over.

Steve speaks first. “Thanks for the invitation ladies. I’m sorry to cut the evening short before we’ve even ordered dinner, but Danny and I’ve been called into work.”

Leslie nods sympathetically. “Raincheck?” she asks.

“You betcha,” Danny supplies. “It really has been special. I, uh, really like this place, you know?”

“It’s got a great vibe,” Steve adds, and Danny has to refrain from rolling his eyes. Vibe? Really?

“Well, thank you for joining us on such short notice,” Janine says, wrapping a possessive arm around Leslie’s waist. “See you boys around.” Then, in a more suggestive tone adds, “Enjoy your … work.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, then flashes a playful grin. “Duty calls, what can I say?”

As they start to walk away, Leslie starts giggling and Janine lets out a loud guffaw. “Have fun answering the call of duty!,” she calls out to their backs.

Danny raises his free hand above his head in a wave of acknowledgement.

“I like them,” Steve says as they walk out of the club, still hand in hand.

“Yeah, they’re a riot.” Danny agrees as they step outside. A moment later, he chuckles. “At least talking to them had the added bonus of cooling our jets,” he says with a meaningful glance at their crotches. “Don’t want to be arrested for public indecency.”

“Immunity and means, Danno. Immunity and means.” Steve stops them mid-stride and pulls Danny into his arms. He kisses Danny right there on the sidewalk, a soft brush of lips that makes Danny’s toes tingle. Danny returns the kiss more eagerly, stoking it into something more urgent and consuming involving teeth and tongues and a few indecent moans. When he finally pulls away, he takes in Steve’s flushed red cheeks, glassy eyes, and kiss-drunk appearance with a seductive grin.

“Take me home, you absurd caveman.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is entirely un beta'd, so feel free to let me know if you find any typos or the like. You can find me online at Tumblr where I obsess about Misha Collins, Cockles, and Destiel along with a host of other fun ships like McDanno. (user name [he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle](https://he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle.tumblr.com/))


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